


Reeducating Spencer

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical, Physical Therapy, SCI, Therapy, shoot out, spinal cord injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3801229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer faces a lifetime of difference when a job led by Emily goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Beryl for clarifications

The California sun was high and bright, casting a mirage of waving water in the distance as the team glared through the glass doors onto the tarmaced runway outside. They were hot, sweating and exhausted, but dedicated to bringing down their unsub.  
  
"I've got a lock." Emily muttered into the radio in her watch. She peered around the doors of the airport building onto the runway. All flights had been grounded and everyone inside had been told that delays were expected for the foreseeable as everyone on Hotch's team and the LAPD tried to work out how an armed man had snuck through security and was now commandeering a packed but thankfully unmoving plane on the first runway.   
  
Beside her, with both arms cocked and a gun in hand, Spencer kept his eyes on the open door of the plane one hundred feet away, hoping for movement that indicated the hostages were being let free. "I can't see a thing." He muttered and flicked his fringe from his eyes. "I can't make out anyone in the windows."   
  
"They're all on there, he probably has them in the in the emergency landing position." Emily countered. She looked across at JJ and Derek, further along the terminal with a similar position on the plane. She raised her wrist to her face. "Can you make out the pilots in the cockpit?" She asked.   
  
After a brief moment, JJ responded. "Got them," she confirmed.   
  
Emily looked hopefully at Reid. "That's a positive; he hasn't taken the cockpit."   
  
"We don't know that for sure." Spencer argued. He looked down the terminal to Derek and JJ. "He could have shot them already."   
  
"We'd have heard the rounds." Emily reasoned. "We're here and so far everyone is safe; I've got confidence in us, Spence." She smiled briefly before focusing her eyes back onto the plane. "We need to make our way out onto the runway and onto the plane."   
  
JJ and Derek looked to them for confirmation, and Emily directed them in her intentions to storm the runway. As she used hand signals, JJ and Derek nodded their understanding and moved as she did with Spencer behind her. They made their way out of the doors and onto the tarmaced runway. They kept in their two groups and moved slowly, congregating at the bottom of the steps onto the plane.   
  
"I'll lead." Derek insisted, nudging his head and speaking quietly. "Follow me." He mouthed and stepped one foot onto the metal steps.   
  
"Morgan, wait." Emily stopped him quickly. Derek turned to look at her. "I'll take the lead; keep behind me and spot. JJ, I want you too. Spencer, I want you to stay here, man the door and keep armed." If they didn't concur, nobody said so as Emily led JJ and Derek onto the plane with quiet but quick steps.   
  
Spencer watched them edge further and further up the steps and glanced around him as the feeling of being watched made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He turned his body, gun ready, and searched around him but saw nothing. As he looked back to the steps and open door of the jet engine, he startled at the view of JJ frozen on the top step.   
  
"JJ. What is it?" He stage whispered. "JJ?"   
  
After a moment, JJ began walking slowly backwards down the open steps and a balaclava-wearing man came out of the shadows of the entrance and into view. He raised his arms, a gun in each hand, and aimed on at JJ before focusing the other past her and squarely on Spencer.   
  
"Prentiss!" JJ called out. "Morgan! Answer me."   
  
"There's more than one," Emily's strangled voice emerged from inside.   
  
"Shoot!" Derek could be heard faintly.   
  
Spencer took as best an aim as he could and a shot rang out, hitting the rim of the doorway. JJ and the gunman jumped at the sound and screams and cries reverberated inside the plane. JJ continued backing up, reaching the midway point on the steps before the masked unsub took a shot himself. The bullet screamed past JJ and missed Spencer by a slither, landing behind him on the abused tarmac. Spencer had no time to recover as another shot was fired. He raised his gun and took another shot at the unsub, catching the masked man on the shoulder. Despite the injury, he seemed unphased as he fired again, grazing JJ's thigh. She tumbled backwards and landed awkwardly against Spencer. He held her tightly as she cringed in pain and tried to remain standing.   
  
One armed and uneven, Spencer took another shot, missing the man completely and catching the top of the plane's doorway. Spencer supported JJ as they began to move, running awkwardly toward the terminal to safety as the unsub tailed them. Five feet from the doors, the unsub made a successful shot and Spencer bellowed as he instantly fell. Face first on concrete, with a wounded JJ at his side, Spencer bled heavy and fast, quickly dipping out of consciousness.   
  
"Shit, Spence." JJ reached out to him, face contorted in her own pain as Spencer's eyes dulled and closed. "No. No, no! Spencer, Spencer wake up!" She shook him awkwardly. "Help me!" She cried.   
  
She looked back toward the plane, frozen in a frowned expression as she saw the unsub splayed on the ground a few feet back and Derek and Emily running toward them. Emily took the subject whilst Derek headed straight to JJ and Reid, radioing in to Hotch and Rossi inside and requesting immediate help.   
  
"JJ, you OK?" Derek asked, pushing his hand down on the blood stained section of her cream pants.   
  
"Flesh wound, I think." JJ winced at the pressure. "Spencer just dropped," she said, fighting the urge to cry out in agony. "He's bleeding really badly."   
  
Derek nodded, his free hand pushed into the small of Spencer's back as thick blood continued to pour viscously beneath his sky blue shirt. "I know, I know. Its gonna be OK. Hotch is getting help." He looked her squarely in the eyes whilst his heart beat wildly in his chest for the man he loved, barely grasping onto consciousness, bleeding out beside him.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan's mind was deafened by the static nothingness that silence gave as he rode in the elevator with David. They'd been directed to a waiting room and served with a small amount of information on Spencer's condition; serious but stable, stray bullet, spinal cord damage was possible, kidney and bowel function may have been impaired... It was fragmented but enormous in its implications. 

 

"Are you OK, Derek?" David asked as the doors slid open and they stepped out of the chrome box into the clinical whiteness of the corridor under strip lights and noisy air con.

 

"Yeah." He nodded and paused two feet from the lift, beside a drinks machine. "Coffee?" David nodded in the affirmative and helped himself to a weak-looking caffeine fix. He wasn't surprised when Derek didn't bother. 

 

They continued wordlessly along the corridor until Morgan found the waiting room they'd been directed to. Even before he stepped in, he could tell the old room was unloved and forgotten, a real dark place to stew over dark and fearful thoughts.

 

"Is he OK?" Penelope seemed to appear out of nowhere as Derek stepped into the waiting room with David. Derek was equally relieved and shocked to see her, amazed at how quickly she had reached the hospital. "Spencer, is he OK?" She immediately hugged Derek tightly. 

 

"Surgery." Rossi explained, nursing the Styrofoam cup of coffee between both hands. He took a seat at a lowly, beaten up table in the far corner small room, beneath a muted TV bracketed to the wall, as Derek and Penelope sat on one of the two grubby sofas. "The bullet was lodged." 

 

Penelope frowned, her mouth dropped open in shock and her hand flew to her face to cover it. "Lodged where?" She asked. 

 

"It entered at the base of his spine, they think it might have torn through his left kidney and perforated his bowel." Derek said, almost detached. "Have you seen JJ?" He asked. He didn't relax back, instead he stayed arched forwards with his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped together tightly. 

 

"She's doing OK." Penelope nodded, "No nerve or muscle damage from the bullet thankfully, she got a few sutures. She's going to be released, but she's in more pain from falling on the steps. Bruised and aching ankles, but it's good, she's going to be OK."

 

David smiled gently, "That's good." 

 

Nodding, Penelope returned his smile. "Hotch called Will, he's on his way. But she wants to stay, she wants to see Spencer." 

 

"She should go home, be with Will for a while and get some rest." Derek said quietly. "Everyone watching him sleep when he's out of surgery is useless." He sighed and licked his lips. "I know you're all trying to help but you're not." He stood up, putting distance between them immediately. He paced the small room, hands pushed deep into his pockets. He signed frequently, forcing himself to stay composed.

 

David and Penelope shared a shattered glance. "We all want to be here," Penelope got to her feet and crossed the room. She put her hand gently onto Derek's back. "And we will be here, for you too, not just for Spencer. You need us."

 

Derek wrapped his arms around her again. "Thanks, baby girl." 

 

David stood, set his coffee down and wrung his hands together. "You two sit tight, I'll find a nurse for some information."

 

"Find Hotch too?" Derek asked him as he reached the door, "let him know I need to talk to him about a couple of thing."

 

David gave a solemn nod, "Sure thing."

 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-

  
  


 

When Will arrived at the hospital, any strength JJ had held up in his absence completely crumbled. As he stepped into the cubicle, she opened out her arms immediately and began to sob. "I was so scared." She whispered into the crook of his neck. He held her tightly, able to feel her trembling beneath his fingers.

 

"It's over, you're safe now." He said, his accent softening his already smooth voice so that it purred gently into her ear, instantly calming. He kissed the side of her head and held her close until she purposely made movements to break free of his embrace. "Are you in pain?" He asked softly as he carefully laid his hands over the bandage visible beneath hem of her hospital gown. "I could kill Aaron Hotchner."

 

JJ shook her head and mopped her face dry as Will sat on the edge of the trolley beside her. "That doesn't hurt so much, I turned on my ankle as I fell and that smarts a little but I'm OK." She insisted. "Baby, this has nothing to do with Hotch. I took the case, I presented it."

 

"He approved it." Will said sharply and looked at JJ with frightened eyes. "That bullet could have been closer to arteries, hit somewhere else, paralysed or even killed you."

 

"But it didn't, Will. I'm going to be OK. It wasn't Hotch's decision, don't blame him. This our work, you know that." She arched her back forwards to get close enough to kiss Will firmly on the mouth. He held her there for a moment. 

 

"Who led you in?" He asked after a moment, when JJ sat straight again and silence dipped in. 

 

Staring at the fluorescent lights above her, JJ swerved the answer. "It's always a team play." 

 

"Was it Rossi? Or Morgan? Who let you board that plane?" Will asked, his words firm and edged with a cocktail of anger and fear. 

 

"It doesn't matter." She eventually whispered, looking Will in the eye. "I'm OK, that's what is important. I'm going to be OK." 

 

Will swept her hair from her face. "Promise me?" He softened his words but JJ knew she'd be met with questioning again.

 

JJ nodded and rested her cheek on Will's palm. "I'm all right. I just want to see how Spence is."

 

"Want me to go and find out?" Will asked, gesturing out the door to the nurse's station with his thumb. JJ straightened up and instantly declined.

 

"No, I want to go and see him for myself. Garcia was here earlier, she said he was on the fourth floor and she was going up. We can find him up there." She said, reaching to the locker beside her bed for the medical-issue over coat folded neatly on top. "Please, Will." She looked at him seriously, able to telepathically hear him bargaining with her to rest. "It's Spencer, he's a kid. I need to see him for myself."

  
Will placed his hands on her shoulders. "Alright, geez. Let me ask a nurse where he is and then I'll take you to him." He edged forwards and kissed her forehead. "Stay put a minute, OK? And you're not walking, I'll find a wheelchair."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that what we call "obs" or "observations" in the UK is what is known as "vitals" in the U.S. Here, obs would be heart rate, temperature, pulse ox, blood pressure, that type of thing.

Will was given nothing of substance from the nurses as he had no right to information. You're not the next of kin, they told him, but he's stable. Will returned to JJ with his measly offerings but it sated her worry enough to allow her to make the decision to go home, and return to the hospital first thing to see if Spencer was doing better. 

 

Will helped JJ to stand and supported her lovingly as she dressed back into her bloodied clothes. She regarded the maroon stain with a tear in her eye and a sick feeling in her stomach. 

 

"Jennifer?" Will moved his hand into the small of her back and tilted his head to look into her eyes. 

 

"It was Emily." She whispered. Will frowned, straightened as JJ looked up, and waited carefully for her to speak, supporting but not pushing her, careful not to force words from her mouth that she wasn't prepared to give freely. "Emily was in charge of the operation. She called the shots, she led the team. Emily called for us to board the plane; she called Derek back when he made out like he'd lead us on and made sure she was at the forefront. The bullet that I got that could have just as easily got him, or her." 

 

"Prentiss called that?" Will clarified. "She ordered the storming of a hostage situation, without back up?" His hand circled slowly on her back, he felt hot with anger but tried to quell it. 

 

JJ nodded her head and sniffed as tears began to fall, flowing rivers down her cheeks and into the grooves of her nose. "I trusted her. I still do. But what if Spencer..." She paused, and searched Will's eyes for the understanding of the words she couldn't say, so she didn't have to say them. 

 

Will took a steady breath. "And Hotch?"

 

"I didn't get the chance to talk to him: Penelope came with me, Morgan and Rossi went with Spence because he was rushed away and I didn't see Hotch really after that. I don't know what to tell him - Emily was doing what I would have done." JJ shrugged her shoulders, playing the day's events over and over again in her mind. 

 

"Exactly like she did?" Will asked her hesitantly. 

 

After a moment of consideration, JJ shook her head. "No." She looked at Will seriously. "I would have had back up, I'd have had more intelligence, tried peace talks..."

 

Will put his arms around her tightly and shushed gently into her ear as he saw her struggle to be openly negative against her colleague. "It's all right; we'll talk to Hotch." 

 

JJ pushed herself up to look at him clearly. "And say what? Tattle-tale - go running to my boss like a child?" She shook her head. "It was a mistake, she just misjudged." 

 

Will shook his head and held her face between both of his hands, staring into her watery eyes. "No, mistake or not, you have to tell him what happened - right and wrong." 

 

"To what end?" 

 

Will considered her question. "Justice?" He offered, "To make sure it doesn't happen again."

  
  
  


 

-*-*-*-*-*-

  
  
  


 

Derek's feet tapped in rhythmic succession, tip-tap, tip-tap, left to right as he counted the half-seconds out of extreme impatience. Above his head, the fluorescent lights hummed annoyingly and the silent TV played a repeated news story for the fifteenth time in two hours. 

 

David had received little information; the surgery was still in progress and Spencer's obs remained stable. David had returned with a message from Hotch, who he'd reached on his cell after his brief chat with the doctors. He'd suggested sitting in at the hospital in shifts and heading home for sleep, he'd also told Rossi to let Derek know that he'd been with them as soon as their unsub was secured and he'd had a chance to talk properly with Prentiss. 

 

Penelope had left, with Rossi who'd offered her a lift home, a little after six pm. She had kissed Derek's cheek, promised to come back first thing tomorrow, and looked sad and concerned, sorry to be leaving almost, as she left the dank waiting room. But Derek preferred the silence and solitude: be and Spencer had a life outside the BAU and right now, this was off the clock. This was real and normal, and being alone to consider the impact it had on his and Spencer's life was easier than making small talk and pretending he wasn't frightened out of his wits.

 

His mind raced over the possible outcomes. At best, Spencer could lose a kidney, perhaps have gastric restrictions but ultimately be well. Of course it could also meet the worst of the criteria; Spencer would be paralysed, reliant on care and rehabilitation and warrant permanent adjustments to his life. Sure, there were inbetweens, but he would either be OK or he wouldn't and it frightened Derek how they were currently teetering on the edge. 

 

He felt guilty - why hadn't he spoken up when Emily called him back? He didn't think Prentiss was right to act so quickly, to board that plane, but, under her command, he followed her direction out of respect. But why? Hotch he would address, had done with Gideon in the past, why hadn't he told Emily he thought she was being too hasty? If he'd just opened his mouth...

 

He was jolted from his thoughts by the sudden interruption of his cell in his pocket. He worked the phone free and scanned be screen before answering it. 

 

"Morgan."

 

"Derek, hi."

 

Derek frowned. "Emily?" 

 

"I'm calling from a landline." She explained. "How's Reid?"

 

Derek swallowed down his growing anger, allowed to breed thanks to time to think, and sighed before he answered. "He's still in surgery. The last update I received was a while back now." 

 

"I'm really - I'm really sorry." 

 

Derek felt his arms goosebump at the sound of sorrow in her voice. "Yeah." He answered, calmly as he could. 

 

"I've got to go, but I'll come as soon as I can." She said quietly. "Give Spence my love, OK?"

 

Derek waited until the line went dead to draw the phone away from his ear. She was sorry - was that acknowledgement that she had been wrong, or a friendly nod to an injured colleague, the kind of sorry they offered to grieving parents and spouses? He pushed the phone back into his pocket and stood up, feeling his stomach churning as his mind raced. He needed Hotch to know he had reservations about Prentiss as a leader, but he didn't know how Hotch would counteract his claim. After all, he hadn't tackled her. 


	4. Chapter 4

Derek spent another hour alone before a short doctor entered the grotty waiting room with a young, male nurse. As they walked in, Derek immediately got to his feet. 

  


"Derek Morgan?" The doctor asked, holding out his hand to shake Derek's hand respectfully. Derek reciprocated the gesture with a shaking hand. "I'm Doctor Gavin, I'm Doctor Reid's consultant."

  


"Is the surgery over?" Derek asked nervously. 

  


Doctor Gavin nodded, "He's just being extubated and he'll be moved to the ICU." He explained. He gestured for Derek to sit back down and he and the nurse took up chairs close by. "I've conversed with the surgeons and examined his scans and X-rays and I'm pleased with the success of the renal surgery, it's a case now of observing his kidney function to ensure they continue to well."

  


Derek smiled, an edge crumbling away from the mountain of worry. "Were any other organs injured?"

  


"He has a slight perforation to his intestine, but the surgeon was able to quite skilfully resection the damage. Again, there'll need to be observation, but we are optimistic." Doctor Gavin said hopefully.

  


Derek exhaled with relief. "That's amazing." He couldn't stop smiling. "And the spinal damage?"

  


Doctor Gavin paused, mouth agape, and considered his words. "There was extensive tissue damage, and clear nerve trauma recognised through tests and exams. If he regains feeling once he's recovered, it is possible that he will have permanent weakness in his legs." 

  


Derek frowned and shook his head, zoning in on one word. "If?"

  


Doctor Gavin nodded his head carefully, eyes considerate and apologetic. "Chances are, given the vast damage to the lower region of his spinal cord, that Doctor Reid won't regain the full mobility of his legs. Of course, every option will be exhausted and all the help we can offer, we will. If there is a line to clutch onto that may improve those odds, we'll take it."

  


Derek breathed heavily, trying to hold fast to the optimism Doctor Gavin had built initially but it was proving incredibly hard. "Can I see him?"

  


Doctor Gavin kicked into gear immediately. "Of course: Sam here will bring you to him." He indicated to the nurse with him. 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-

 

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, feeling a wave of nausea roll across him as he adjusted to the glare of the lights above his head. The sick feeling rose, bobbing perilously in his throat. He moved his tongue around his mouth and the action made him gag. And then the realisation that he was in pain set in; he felt a deep-routed ache in his back and a stinging across his face. He blinked the light from his eyes and turned his head, trying to get a look at his surroundings. 

  


A hospital. 

  


A bed with bars, machines at his side, noises and smells that were immediately associative with medical care. He lifted his hand to push his fringe from his eyes and it felt cumbersome with the cannula and pulse ox that weighed it down. He let his hand drop back down to his side and swallowed to try and stem the further building nausea. He hated hospitals, and being a patient in one made his anxieties begin to manifest. 

  


He turned his head to the opposite side, eyes screwed closed as he felt them well with tears, and startled when he opened them again to see Derek sitting beside him, nodding in and out of a vague sleep. 

  


"Derek..." He whispered and found his throat raw and aching. 

  


Derek's eyes shot open. He leaned forwards in the creaking plastic chair and smiled sadly at Spencer, "Hey, pretty boy."

  


Spencer smiled sleepily. "JJ." He frowned, remembering suddenly. "Is she OK?"

  


Derek edged closer and snaked his arm through the gap in the bars to rest his hand on Spencer's video. "She's doing fine." He nodded, still smiling slightly. "Just a flesh wound; she's resting at home."

  


"I had surgery?" he asked, the ache in his back becoming a little more insistent. 

  


Derek nodded and inhaled sharply. "Yeah, some heavy duty repair action." He smirked but he didn't feel remotely jovial. "Are you in any pain?" 

  


"My back." Spencer said, and the strangled whimper in his throat hurt Derek too deeply. 

  


"You've got a button." Derek stood up and reached for the long grey wire with a black plunger in the end that was hung over the bar on the opposite side. "Pain meds."

  


"He shot me." Spencer said lucidly as Derek pressed the plunger before hanging the wire back over the bed. "After JJ, he shot me."

  


Derek gave a curt nod. "Yeah, Spence, he did." He reached his hand up and brushed Spencer's hair back like a mother would do to her sleeping child.

  


"I'm tired." Spencer said, plainly. 

  


"Sleep." Derek insisted, "I'll be here when you wake up."

  


Spencer's eyes lulled closed and then opened again, equally slowly. "Was it bad?" He asked, slurred through his exhaustion. 

  


Derek paused a moment, hoping not to have to answer too deeply. "Yeah," he said, hand smoothing on Spencer's forehead. "It was kind of bad."

  


Spencer's brow furrowed and his eyes lulled closed again, this time staying shut. "Don't tell my Mom." He mumbled, slowly succumbing to the remainder of the anaesthesia and pain medication running through his veins. 

  


Derek ruffled his hair a final time before leaving Spencer to sleep. He backed away from the bed and slipped from the small, curtained-off bay of the ICU out into the open section of the unit. He walked up to the nurses station and loitered until the young looking nurse behind the desk looked up from her paperwork. 

  


"Hi." She said behind a smile, her voice hushed. "How can I help?"

  


"I'm with Spencer Reid, he's been alert for a while but he's just fallen back to sleep. He's complaining of pain in his back - I need to talk to someone about it." 

  


"His doctor is currently with another patient, but by all means when he's free I'll get the orders to write up a pain management script." She nodded encouragingly. 

  


Derek shook his head, "no I need to discuss the pain." He clarified. 

  


The young nurse frowned. "Discuss it?"

  


"I feel like it's good he's in pain, says he's not paralysed. Right?" Derek blurted. 

  


The nurse's face softened into a sad smile, "Doctor Reid's injuries are extensive, the pain could be localised to the incision for his surgery, it could be radiating pain or muscle cramps." She explained, broadly. 

  


"Or just pain." Derek snapped. "Why can't it just be pain?"

  


"His injuries were indicative of spinal injury from the outset." She said gently, "Of course we all remain hopeful, but realistic acceptance is vital too." 

  
Derek knew she was right, but clinging onto hope was important to him. He wouldn't give up. He nodded his head, anyway, and walked away from the station with a slow, heavy step. As he worked his way out of the unit, he took his phone from his pocket and began calling those around he and Spencer who needed to hear he was out of surgery and doing OK; he started with Hotch. 


	5. Chapter 5

Derek paced a small, private spot he found in the hospital stairwell with his cell pressed to his ear, waiting for Hotch to answer. It was four rings before the call was picked up and Derek almost burst with relief to hear his voice. 

  


"Hotchner."

  


"Hotch, it's Morgan." Derek rubbed his hand across the side of his face as he paced. 

  


"How is he?" 

  


Derek gave a tremendous sigh. "He's out of surgery. He's sleeping, and they repaired his damaged organs but they can't tell me anything solid about the spinal damage. But they're saying he could be paralysed. The nurse said if he does get feeling back he would likely have weakness in his legs anyway." 

  


Derek was taken aback when he heard Hotch's breathy reply: "Shit." 

  


"And JJ." Derek said, "have you spoken to her?"

  


"Briefly." Hotch replied. "I'm going to come to the hospital. Once Spencer is more lucid, we can all talk properly." 

  


Derek frowned. "Why not now? I need to know that son of a bitch is locked up, and I need to know that Prentiss' mistakes won't happen again." 

  


Hotch sighed. "I know." He said quietly, almost defeated. 

  


"No, Hotch. You don't. I nearly lost the love of my life today and one of my closest friends, and all down to rookie mistakes and uncoordinated work from one of the people I'd grown to respect most in my job. Emily was wrong, OK? She shouldn't have asked anyone to go near that jet with how little knowledge and visible access we had. And now Spencer is facing life in a wheelchair, apparently where he has feeling back or not, and I'm not sure I can look at her that same way again. He could have died Hotch, and I'm not sure which is worse."

  


"Derek, listen to me. I know what happened. And I know how important Reid is to you. We're going to fix it, in any way we can. Tell Spencer I'm thinking of him and I'll be over first thing."

  


Derek exhaled loudly into the speaker. "Thanks." He pushed his phone back into his pocket and sunk down onto the bottom step of the higher flight. He ran his hands over his exhausted face and tried to calculate the day in his mind. Emily, JJ, Spencer... 

  


He allowed himself a few minutes of peace before he got to his feet and made his way back to the bay Spencer was tucked away in. He made sure the curtains were pulled, giving them as much privacy as possible in a hospital, and dragged the chair as close to Spencer bed as he could get it before he sat down. As he took the weight off his feet, the squeak of the chair in protest to its occupant echoed around the clinical room and Derek winced as Spencer's eyes opened in apparent shock. 

  


"Hey, it's only me. I'm sorry." He shushed, pushing his hand through the bedrails to rub soothing circles in Spencer's shoulder. "You doing OK?"

  


Spencer looked at him sleepily and nodded his head slowly, "I'm OK."

  


"Pain gone?" Derek asked, leaning in close. 

  


Spencer nodded again, "pretty much." He exhaled heavily and blinked slowly. "Is Emily in trouble?" He asked carefully, brow creasing. "I told her I couldn't see anything...I didn't want to." He sound so sad, verging on tears, and Derek moved his hand from his shoulder to his cheek, caressing gently. 

  


"I know." Derek spoke quietly. "And so does Hotch." 

  


Spencer breathed evenly, trying to stop the tears in his eyes but it was hard to hold them in. "Is she in trouble?" He asked, staring at the roof to avoid looking Derek in the eye. 

  


Derek shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know. I've talked to her and Hotch, both have said they'd come to see you. They're worried." 

  


"But I'm OK." Spencer said firmly. "I'm tired but I'm OK." He looked at Derek, eyes shining. "Aren't I?"

  


Derek stared at him a moment, at the baby face and messy curls, the openness in his eyes, the odd social confusion that always furrowed his brow and wrinkled his nose, and wondered how he could tell the man he loved that he faced life in a wheelchair, with or without the feeling in his lower half returning. "I hope so." He whispered desperately. 

  


Spencer frowned deeply, "It's isn't the pain medication that's making me numb, is it?" 

  


Derek closed his eyes, both for confirmation of Spencer's lack of feeling and at the pain of having to give the answer. "No." He barely breathed out. He coughed and inhaled a deep breath before he spoke again. "No, Spencer." He shook his head, "That shot entered into your back around your tailbone, caused a lot of damage and disruption." 

  


Spencer's nostrils flared as tears began building quicker, feeling like lava in his eyelids. "Damage like what?" His voice caught in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed painfully. 

  


"They had to operate on your bowel, one of your kidneys..." Derek said as carefully as he could. "There's injury to your spinal cord, nerve damage." 

  


Spencer's chin wobbled as he tried to avoid sobbing. "I won't walk?"

  


Derek licked his lips, "They don't know yet - they need to wait, let you recover and see what repairs itself and what doesn't." 

  


Spencer shook his head, "how can I be in pain if I'm paralysed, huh?" He snapped, tears dripping down his cheeks, snaking back into his ears and hair. "My back hurt so bad. If I feel it, then I feel..." He swallowed hard. "How can I be numb and in pain at the same time?"

  


Derek stood up and leaned over the bed, kissing Spencer's forehead three times. "Shh," he cooed as Spencer cried. "Shh, it's going to be OK. They're going to do everything they can and I'm going to be here all the way." He kissed him again. "I'm here now. I love you."


	6. Chapter 6

 

Derek spent the night at Spencer beside, watching him sleep fitfully, managing barely an hour of sleep for himself when he found Spencer settled for a while. The night was punctuated regularly by nurses dipping in and out of the bay to check on Spencer and complete his observations. Derek took note of their actions and read their expressions carefully. They were pleased with Spencer's kidney function, happy with his BP and heart rate and even took him off the machines once morning arrived, leaving him with just a catheter bag and IV line for extra attachments.

 

By seven am, Spencer had been assisted to wash and helped into a clean gown by Derek and a healthcare assistant who'd pleasantly surprised Derek with the dignity and grace she showed Spencer throughout.

 

Spencer remained tired, emotional at times and lulled into power naps thanks to the medication. He barely spoke, didn't discuss how he was feeling at all, and Derek wasn't sure whether he preferred it that way or if he wished Spencer would get mad at him or Emily, or anything. But Derek stuck by him, insisted he ate and brought him as much coffee as he could manage. Spencer seemed to appreciate it, even if he didn't say as much.

 

Penelope arrived shortly before nine am and instantly began to cry as she entered the bay. Spencer greeted her with a crinkled nose as he smiled and opened his arms out for a sleepy hug as she approached the bed.

 

"How you feeling, kiddo?" She asked, blotting her eyes. She ruffled her hand through Spencer bed hair and pushed up a smile to her cheeks.

 

"I'm OK." He said, his mouth a flat line.

 

Garcia fixed her eyes on him firmly, "Really?"

 

Spencer shrugged. "I don't know."

 

She put her hand over Spencer's, resting on his lap, and looked to Derek for answers. "Has the consultant been round?"

 

"He's due at ten." Derek explained. "They've got to check the incisions and run a few tests."

 

"Will they know the extent of the spinal damage then?" She pressed. As her words filled the room, Spencer gripped her hands tightly in his.

 

"I hope so; the sooner we know what lies ahead, the sooner we can start getting whatever help he needs." He looked at Spencer and smiled.

 

"If we have to go wheelchair shopping, can I have one with reflectors?" Spencer deadpanned and it made Penelope shiver.

 

"Doctors work wonders these days." Penelope tried to smile brightly. "Physio and hard work could beat any odds, we've all seen stories in the news of people told they'll never walk again up and running marathons."

 

Surprisingly to Derek, Spencer gave her a sleepy but genuine smile. "Yeah." He nodded, "True."

 

"Spence, we don't even know what lies ahead yet." Derek said, sounding sad. "Maybe it's swelling making you feel numb, and once you're recovered from surgery you'll start to feel better. Maybe you'll just need some rehab, maybe you'll need a cane."

 

"Or maybe I'll need a wheelchair." Spencer said, resting his head back on the pillow, looking oddly accepting.

 

"Can't you cling onto some hope?" Derek countered, an edge on his voice that conveyed his worry and fear. "You're a man of science, Spence. Where's your sense of beating the odds, of medical wonder, of the resilience of the human body? I mean, Jesus!"

 

"Derek." Penelope tried to scold his raised voice but she just sounded sympathetic.

 

Spencer crinkled his nose, "How about you be realistic? I've been shot in the back."

 

Penelope looked between her two closest friends and tried to work out who she agreed with most. Derek has a point, hope would be a good mental health strategy but Spencer's grasp on reality would prevent a deep mental fall. "OK, that's enough. You're both right." She eventually broke into their brewing argument. "Spencer, honey, you need to rest and I know you're in pain and on a lot of meds so I'm going to go. But I'll come back later and we can talk properly, OK?"

 

Spencer nodded and closed his eyes as she bent to kiss his forehead. "Thanks, Garcia."

 

Penelope approached Derek and encased him in a loving hug. "Call me, let me know the news. No matter how bad it is, OK?"

 

Derek nodded into the crook of her neck as they embraced and then kissed her cheek as they broke apart. "I'll see you soon." He said, keeping his hand on her arm as she moved away, waving to Spencer while walking through the door.

 

Derek approached Spencer's bed and rested his hands on the rails. After a moment, he reached in and laid his left hand on top of Spencer's. "You're right." He said calmly, "being realistic is important, but I just want to hope that it's going to be OK. The preliminary ideas the doctor gave weren't promising but I know you're already one in a million, so why couldn't you be the one in a million who overcomes something like this?"

 

Spencer flattened his mouth into a thin line as Derek's words and husky voice settled into his mind, "I just don't want to hope too much."

 

When the consultant arrived, it wasn't the man Derek was expecting. In place of the doctor he had met the night before was a younger man, looking like he was just out of med school, with a handsome smile and a nervous habit of licking his lips.

 

"Hi, I'm Doctor DeWolfe." He extended his hand to Derek, then to Spencer. "How're you feeling today?"

 

Spencer responded with a shrug.

 

"Where's the other doctor?" Derek questioned.

 

Doctor DeWolfe looked perplexed at the question. "We work in partnership." He said after a moment and then turned back to Spencer. "I need to complete a few exams, and make a note of the level of impairment to your mobility."

 

Derek's face contorted into an angry frown. "Doc, what do you mean by that? Level of impairment. You don't even know if he is impaired."

 

The doctor looked stunned and grappled with his notes. "You are Spencer Reid?" He asked, worried almost for Spencer's reply.

 

"Yes." Spencer nodded lethargically.

 

DeWolfe looked back at his notes. "Gunshot to the spine, damage at L5, confirmed weakness, presenting with numbness."

 

Derek's face paled impossibly. "Confirmed."

 

"Damaging the spine at the fifth lumbar region would definitely cause weakness, perhaps more severely affect one side, and leaves the individual incontinent." DeWolfe looked seriously at Spencer. "I'm sorry. I assumed you have full knowledge."

 

Spencer wet his lips with his tongue and drew his mouth into a line, looking thoughtful. "I think I would recall that kind of confirmation." He muttered.

 

"I am sorry." Doctor DeWolfe repeated. "I just - it's usually news that's delivered as soon as possible, to give people time to adjust and absorb it. I thought you would have known."

 

"Not being able to move my legs has been knowledge enough." Spencer swallowed hard.

 

"What about the pain." Derek interrupted. "He was in pain in his back last night. How can he be in pain and be paralysed?"

 

"We haven't confirmed paralysis. Muscle cramps can occur, and of course he has had surgery internally and on his lumbar region; pain is to be expected but it isn't indicative of good mobility." DeWolfe explained, clutching his file like a security blanket.

 

"Can I have some time?" Spencer asked, clearing his throat. "Please?"

 

"Of course." DeWolfe nodded instantly. "Take all the time you need." He promptly back away from the room and left the men alone.

 

Silent for a moment, Spencer looked to Derek. He looked terrified and completely destroyed. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

 

"Why are you sorry?" Derek asked, crossing the space to the bed to take Spencer's hand.

  
"No hope now." Spencer said simply.


	7. Chapter 7

Hotch sat across from Emily and said nothing for an awkwardly long time. He knew people were waiting for them, that Derek and Spencer would be expecting them to visit sometime soon, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to Prentiss in the way he knew he needed to. He looked anywhere but at her for as long as he could before he finally sighed and gave her his full attention. "It doesn't look good for Reid." He spoke evenly, as was his talent. Emily bowed her head. "A bullet in the spine, Emily, through your overexcited burst to prove something to someone." 

 

"No." Emily disagreed immediately. 

 

Hotch held up his hand. "You all could have died. JJ and Morgan had one clear line of sight, into the cockpit, while you and Spencer saw nothing. You boarded that flight and left a vulnerable single spotter on the Tarmac and walked straight into a situation you couldn't handle. Three armed men, Emily. Nothing about what you did showed any ounce of forward thinking or control." 

 

Emily shook her head and denied his claims vehemently. "I could see. I knew what was happening, we all did. I called an action that I stand by - we saved everyone on that jet." 

 

"And injured two of our own." Hotch raised his voice, "You could have done both with clear communication to the unsubs and with a definite and clear line of sight into that plane." 

 

"I thought I was doing right." Emily defended. "The last thing I wanted was for anyone to get hurt."

 

"Spencer told you he couldn't see aboard the jet from where you were." Hotch said bluntly. Emily frowned. "Your microphones, they're constant. Reid said he couldn't see, you asked JJ and Morgan what they saw and decided that was enough. You called for three of you to board the jet with a single line of vision, no contact with the people on board and no real clue what was happening beyond the profile we had built up for a single assailant." He shook his head. "You were in over your head, Emily, and you didn't ask for help and you didn't call it off." 

 

"It was a...bad call." Emily said, uncertainty making her voice quiver. 

 

Hotch got to his feet and exhaled a sigh of resigned agreement. "Yeah, it was. Turn in your gun and badge - you're suspended pending and investigation."

 

Emily nodded her head, accepting her punishment. She rose to her feet and unclipped her gun and badge. She lay them on Hotch's desk and turned to walk out of his office. 

 

"As their friend, you're still expected to be there for Spencer at the hospital." Hotch called to her. "I can drive us both."

 

Emily paused, hand on the doorknob, and shook her head. "I probably shouldn't go. Morgan will need the space." 

 

Hotch accepted her reasoning. "I'll call you - with how he is, and when you'll be needed for the investigation." 

 

Emily sighed and turned back to Hotch. "You must know how sorry I am." She said, holding out her arms at her sides. "You don't honestly think that hurting Spencer and JJ is something I wanted or planned for?" 

 

Hotch shook his head, "Of course not." He insisted. "But the fact remains that they did get hurt and under your order. Emily, you charged without appropriate knowledge."

 

Emily nodded her head sincerely, "I know and it's tearing me up inside. But I thought we had it pegged." 

 

"No." Hotch insisted, "You just thought you could wing it and it would come off in your favour, outweighing the mistake."

 

"That's not true." Emily stood her ground.

 

"Then what possessed you? You could have killed everyone involved, innocents and yourselves. Why didn't you make sure you had it all under control." Hotch asked, softening his voice. 

 

Emily pushed her hair from her face. "Because I thought it was all under control. In hindsight, I neglected the team and some vital steps, but at the time all I could see was saving those people and apprehending the unsub."

 

"Being on this team means hindsight doesn't fix it. You need to know, or nothing is going to go right." Hotch spoke carefully. "So, the hospital?"

 

Emily pursed her lips. "I'll come." She said quietly. "I'll meet you at the car."

  
"I'm sure they'll appreciate it." Hotch nodded his head as she finally turned and walked away. 


End file.
